


carefully (i was going to live)

by no_second_chances



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Trans Character, Trans Kozume Kenma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_second_chances/pseuds/no_second_chances
Summary: Kuroo always knew just the right things to say and do to make Kenma feel at home.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	carefully (i was going to live)

**Author's Note:**

> heyo, so if this seems familiar, it's because i posted it late last night impulsively and wanted to rewrite it. thanks for reading lmao. title is from the song "last words of a shooting star" by mitski :)

Kenma normally wasn’t one to think about his body, because most of the time he could never really bring himself to care. He had other focuses, other priorities that had nothing to do with the way he looked. He was immensely more comfortable in his own body now, and the itch under his skin had more or less faded, but there were moments that his mind dragged it up again. 

He moved in with Kuroo no less than two weeks ago, but his entire world was already turned on its axis. He thought he knew love, and thought it came in the form of his family, but Kenma was proved wrong. Love came in the form of Kuroo Tetsurou: deep laughter, warm embraces, gentle touches, and beaming smiles.

Kuroo treats him like he was the world itself, always cherishing the small moments that Kenma openly shows his affection. The blonde thinks back to that morning. 

Kenma had been curled on the side of their bed, switch laying next to him, but gold eyes trained on the ceiling instead. Thoughts were racing around in his mind about nothing in particular, just random flashes of memories and old feelings. He was always one to zone out, so when Kuroo entered the room he wasn’t at all phased. 

Climbing onto the blankets, the dark haired male had wrapped his arms around the blonde, and in turn the latter immediately curled into Kuroo’s chest. The warmth from Kuroo’s breathing left a tingle on the setter’s neck as the older ran fingers through two toned hair. After a few minutes, the second year had relaxed even more, signaling he was comfortable and drifting out of consciousness. 

Kuroo just continued threading his hands through the blonde strands, admiring the smooth drag along Kenma's scalp.

_“Your hair is so pretty, baby.”_

His mother’s words. He needed the change, because the black reminded him too much of sitting in his room with a handheld and headphones blasting whatever music was loud enough. He remembered the way the sparkly clips his mother had put in his hair would catch on the headphones sometimes. If his hair was so pretty before he had changed it, was it no longer appealing?

Rough (though caring) hands carding along his roots, showing their appreciation helped ease his doubts.

Kenma enjoyed those moments- the peaceful laziness, listening to the other’s breathing and sharing warmth. Being in Kuroo’s space was somehow calming, even if he was borderline chaotic on a _good day_. The books lining his shelves were neat and alphabetised, his belongings tucked away cleanly, and the walls were orderly with a schedule and bulletin board of pictures. It was a welcome contrast to the explosion of his childhood home. Sometimes it gave Kenma a headache, but he could never bring it up with his parents, lest they turn their animosity towards each other onto him. 

The bottle-blonde knew how energetic his best-friend was, and it was something he would never change, even if sometimes the loud volume of his voice startled him before he completely woke up. Sometimes he would think he was back in his old bed, and on autopilot grabbed his headphones and turned up the volume, shoving a pillow over his ears and suppressing his tremors. 

Even so, Kuro was Kuro, and there was a reason that Kenma trusted him with everything.

_“You look absolutely wonderful in that dress, dear!”_

Dresses were a piece of clothing he had despised, and he absent mindedly ran a fingertip along the string of his hoodie.The dresses showed feminine curves and were always frilly and patterned. They made the burning sensation under his skin rush to his ears, rendering him deaf to the world in a dysphoric haze. 

If he couldn’t wear the dresses without wanting to shred the fabric (and himself along with it), what did that make him?

Kuroo constantly leant him his hoodies or t-shirts, and always snuggled up to him whenever he wore them. He showered Kenma with compliments and pretty words that affirmed him that he was attractive in _everything_ , and his comfort was the highest priority. The taller male had always expressed his weakness to Kenma in his clothes, and the setter was never opposed to the soft fabrics of his wardrobe, so he would pull on the sweaters on the bad days. 

Today is a bad day, and he’s practically swimming in the dark cotton hoodie, but it felt like one of Kuroo’s hugs so Kenma is forever grateful.

_“I love you, my beautiful girl!”_

He knows his mother always meant it as a compliment, but it always felt backhanded, leaving discomfort churning in his stomach. He isn’t the girl who wore flower patterned dresses when he went out with his parents anymore. Kenma isn’t the child with rosy cheeks and shoulder length black hair tucked into ribbons anymore. 

But Kuroo never makes him feel like a girl. After he transitioned when he was seven years old, that was that, and he was a boy. Kuroo had always said that he was never a girl to begin with, and it was just his body that didn’t get the memo. Validation came in the form of Kuroo Tetsurou, even if Kenma never asked for it. 

It was cringey, and Kenma would probably always wrinkle his nose when it happened, but when Kuroo used pet names he used the most masculine ones possible (ignoring “Kitten”, because that was simply an abomination Kenma would ignore). He never had to deal with being called “dear”, “sweetie”, “honey”, or anything that would even border on making him dysphoric, and Kenma loved him greatly for it. 

It would be painfully easy for Kuroo to break him, but Kenma knew it would never be done intentionally. The fear of betrayal would probably always be there, but he could push it aside. Kenma enjoyed being near Kuroo, and domestic moments always reminded him of all the reasons there were to stay. Maybe he would always be a little bit of a flight risk, but alas.

Kuroo Tetsurou was home.

**Author's Note:**

> ily please take care of yourself (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*)


End file.
